


Father’s Day

by captainThotiana



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Cute, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Father's Day, I swear to God herself if I search for a puppy tag and get more of this kinky freakin, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 05:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19244947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainThotiana/pseuds/captainThotiana
Summary: Christopher Pike happens to be walking around campus with a bundled-up something in his arms on Father’s Day. Everyone’s really confused. Chris is having the time of his life.





	Father’s Day

**Author's Note:**

> A G rating? Amazing! I put off “O Captain My Captain” for this because holidays, and I would have posted it ten hours ago but my phone likes to delete all my tags when I try to post and I was running back and forth too much to sit down at my computer. Enjoy!

Chris was getting really tired of people’s reactions to the puppy.

For context, he was walking around campus with a puppy in his arms, wrapped thoroughly in a blanket because she was tiny, wiggly, and cold even in the pleasant weather. And it was Father’s Day.

Which was kind of the point of the puppy, although he had been wanting a dog for a while and she wasn’t just an impromptu present. Saying “happy Father’s Day” to someone who didn’t have children was hilarious enough, but followed with a puppy being presented as a child was comedy gold.

Or maybe Chris was already making dad jokes. He thought he was funny, but he couldn’t objectively judge his own jokes, so.

Nonetheless, basically everyone on campus stared at him with various degrees of subtlety as he went about his daily tasks with a blanket-burritoed puppy under one arm and a padd in the other.

Only a few people had questioned him and found out that he didn’t have a secret child and wasn’t holding a baby, but those who weren’t brave enough to ask made hilarious faces.

“I can’t tell if this is a prank or you have a secret love child I don’t know about,” someone said, and Chris turned to see Jim approaching, hand in hand with his doctor friend that he only called “Bones”.

“Neither,” he replied, putting the padd under his arm and unwrapping the blankets a little.

A black nose poked out, followed by a wiggling snow-white snout with a trail of faint gray spots. After some determined sniffing, the puppy stuck her face out.

She was beautiful, with a perfect diagonal line separating her face into dark and light, the right side snowy-white and dark-eyed and the left tri-colored brown, black, and silver with a bright, icy blue eye.

She yapped at Jim and McCoy and then scrambled around in Chris’s arms until she could lick his face properly.

Jim went “aww” and melted a little, but McCoy’s face went through surprise, affection, surprise again, and then almost-happy-crying so quickly that Chris almost laughed.

Almost being the keyword, because the puppy really needed to stop French kissing him before someone got jealous.

“That’s a puppy,” Jim said, as if that wasn’t obvious.

“She is,” Chris agreed.

“Why?” McCoy asked, and it wasn’t exactly eloquent but at least he wasn’t stating the obvious.

“We both wanted a dog, and she’ll be a hilarious Father’s Day present.”

“Who’s we?” Jim asked.

Ah yes, Chris remembered that he’d never told Jim, or really anyone, that he was dating someone.

“Me and my husband,” he said with a smile.

Well, married, actually.

A few thousand questions parades across Jim’s face, but McCoy didn’t look surprised. Boyce knew, so he probably knew too.

“Since when do you marry people?” Jim settled on.

“June sixteenth of last year,” Chris replied, and he may be enjoying this a little too much.

He didn’t wear a wedding ring, so he supposed that made it a little more difficult to notice, but still. Jim got his hands on knowledge he shouldn’t have far too often to have missed this, especially because Chris hadn’t purposefully kept anything from him.

“Do I really strike you as someone who’d never find love?” Chris asked, half-teasing. Cadets didn’t really believe that their authority figures had lives outside of the academy, so he wasn’t that surprised.

Jim tried to rephrase for a bit, but McCoy slapped his hand and he gave up.

“I’m kidding, Jim,” he said, removing the puppy from where she was attached to his ear by the teeth.

“She’s so pretty,” McCoy sighed, and Chris had a sense he and Jim might finally stop dancing around their feelings and get a dog one of these days, since McCoy was clearly ready to die to protect any and every small dog.

“Her name’s Amira, fittingly enough. She’s named after his grandmother, too,” Chris informed them, unable to stop himself from smiling when Amira booped his nose with her own.

She wriggled around and barked at both him and the two idiots for a while, and Chris got the message eventually and stepped closer to Jim so she could fling herself into his arms and consume his face.

Okay, so he wasn’t expecting her to reenact Shakespeare dramas, but it was cute.

Jim was surprised but not unhappy with this development, and held Amira up so she could suck out his soul for a while.

She was so tiny, but incredibly fluffy, and, as Chris had been very pleased to discover, the softest thing he’d ever felt.

McCoy pet Amira a few times, but when she started chewing on his fingers Chris removed her. He’d just picked her up this morning because scheduling called for it, and she was already a destructive force to be reckoned with.

She yawned and curled up into his chest, wiggling her way into the blanket again, and aww.

“Anyways, I have to get home,” Chris said after a moment of collective awwing over the puppy. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

He walked away before Jim or McCoy could ask more questions, and before Jim could complain about the dog hair all over his shirt.

Amira decided to curl up in his armpit and snore a bit, and the cold nose definitely wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Nope. Not even a little.

When Chris got home, he was greeted by the smell of something savory with copious amounts of onion.

“I’m home,” he called, closing the door with his hip and somehow setting the padd he was carrying down without dropping the puppy.

“In the kitchen,” came a response, and he shifted so Amira wasn’t sticking her nose in his arm and followed the smell of good food.

“What are you cooking?” Chris asked, kicking off his shoes and depositing his jacket on the back of a chair.

“Kofta.”

Chris only had a very vague idea of what that was, but it smelled delicious.

“Happy Father’s Day,” he said when he rounded the corner into the kitchen.

Ash set the tongs down. “If this is your way of telling me you have a child I didn’t know about-”

He turned, exasperated glare at the ready, and stopped mid-sentence when Amira wiggled out of the blanket and wagged her tiny stub of a tail ferociously.

“Is that a puppy?”

“Maybe,” Chris replied, leaving it up to interpretation whether he was kidding or he snuck a shapeshifter home (again). Long story.

Ash tried to look stern, but couldn’t, and ended up smiling and lifting her out of his arms, letting her lick his nose.

“You’re adorable,” he informed her, and she wagged so hard her entire body was shaking.

Chris had learned through not at all sneaky means that Ash had dogs growing up and kind of wanted one.

“I guess we’re both fathers now,” he said, smiling fondly at the two of them.

“Stop being sappy and flip the skewers over,” Ash said, though the order fell flat from the adoration in his tone.

Chris couldn’t tell if it was directed towards him or the puppy, but either way, he flipped the kofta, which he discovered was a replicated substitute for lamb that smelled of garlic, allspice, coriander, and maybe a hint of lemon, in long pieces and incredibly tempting but definitely too hot to eat yet.

“Take the dog,” Ash said, cleaning up the absolute mess he’d made in the kitchen. The best food happened with a mess.

Chris did, and Amira was so cute he felt like his heart was going to spontaneously implode.

Once Ash had finished scrubbing down the counter and putting the dishes in the sink, he put the kofta on a plate neatly, without skewering himself like Chris would have.

A while later, they sat on the couch together, Amira scampering around on the ground, chasing after a piece of lint. When Chris told Ash her name, he’d teared up just a little and kissed him.

Kofta, as it turned out, was just as good as it smelled. Unsurprisingly, Ash had made it just spicy enough that Chris went through two glasses of water but didn’t quite need to cry. Apparently, they had very different heat tolerances.

And curled up on the couch together, sipping at a decent wine Chris had picked up the other day, empty plates of fresh-cooked food in front of them and their dog napping on the floor, well. It felt an awful lot like home.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to praise/roast in the comments. Happy Father’s Day!
> 
> (Edit: for fuck’s SAKE why do I keep finding typos in these Jesus Christ)


End file.
